(escapril, day 21: it’s the end of the world)

Death is in

The crook of your neck,

The mad glint in your eyes,

The way I can’t stop laughing.

Everything is manic and magic.

Pull me down the avenue, hand in hand,

Baby pink petals bruising underfoot.

Slender veins bursting,

Wild wind whirling

Among the branches,

A pantomime of how we move.

It’s all about to be over, me and you.

Doomsday is coming, breathing hot and fast on our heels.

So you better grab what you can,

Live it up, baby, live it right now.